


Revolutions

by SunlightOnTheWater



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Sam Winchester-centric, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightOnTheWater/pseuds/SunlightOnTheWater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam never wanted this but it was given to him anyway. When Dean is dragged to Hell because of his demon deal, Sam is confronted with a choice, embrace his destiny or let his older brother rot in Hell.</p>
<p>Updates monthly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Revolutions_

  
**Prologue**

_“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.”-Genesis 1:1-4, NIV Version_

Samuel Winchester first saw her when he was six but this all began long before that fateful first meeting. In the beginning, God created the earth but He also, in His divine wisdom, created two beings. One was known as Death, and once Adam and Eve were tempted and sadly removed from the Garden to the wilds of the earth, given free will to do as they pleased, Death and eventually his reapers would reap them and bring them to their eternal resting place. The other being had no name, at least none that any would remember, and was meant to be a guardian but when the Morningstar rebelled and was cast out of Heaven, when the creation of Hell became a necessity, she was placed as the Guardian of Hell’s Gates.

At the time she called herself Hannah, which means favor and grace, and she spoke often with the Lord, despairing with Him all those who chose Hell instead of the eternal reward He offered them. She remained Hannah throughout the centuries, until He visited her bringing news of the birth of Christ. He told her of the Messiah that would die to save the world and she rejoiced in the repentance this offered to the nations of earth. Then He told her something else, news He had told no other save for Death. The Lord whispered to her of the birth of a child of the purest soul. He said that this child would face many trails and wounds but would come through stronger than any human had been before. This child would be redeemed by his own sacrifice and would become the true ruler of Hell, setting a place that was becoming more and more damaged to what it ought to be. Then He left her and moved forward His divine plan.

Hannah watched as the Messiah was born to earth. She watched as great miracles were performed and she wept in the wake of the crucifixion, overcome by sorrow at what must be done to redeem the humans. Then she sang for joy when He rose on the third day and her voice reached the greatest depths of Hell, filling the wicked with fear and trembling. Then, for many centuries, things became still. It was during this time that she renamed herself Elisa, meaning my God is a vow, in remembrance of all that He had done for humanity. Centuries passed and the joy of His miraculous rise from the grave never left her. Nor did the anticipation of the birth of the child who would set Hell to rights.

Finally, after waiting since the first century, the child arrived. He was born on May 2nd of 1983 to Mary Campbell, of the infamous Campbell Hunter family, and John Winchester, a former Marine. He had hazel eyes with a little kiss of blue in the center, wisps of downy brown hair, and weighed seven pounds, two ounces. To her, he was completely perfect. On that day she renamed herself Carys. It was a Welsh name and meant to love. 

From the moment of his birth, she loved Samuel Winchester with the same kind of complete and utter adoration she had for the Lord. He was perfect in every way, with a soul the likes of which she had never seen before. It gleamed with the purest light of Heaven and she was sure that even the archangels could not possibly be as wonderful. The only thing that she had ever seen that was more majestic than Samuel Winchester’s soul was the Lord and He was incomparable. She was glory and light and everything she had missed from the world. She longed to approach him and brimmed full of fury when Azazel tried to taint that precious soul with demon blood.

Her rage at this action shook Hell and Cerberus growled for the first time in centuries. Even the Cage groaned at the force of her anger. Samuel Winchester was perfect and pure, even with the demon blood, but Azazel had touched something precious. Hell’s prince was planning something, something that Carys could never approve of, and she longed for the day when Samuel would be old enough to take his rightful place. 

She observed him for years, not daring to approach him until the winter of his sixth year. The demon blood screamed and raged inside him, furious at the awakening of his God given powers, and he writhed and sweat on his ratty bed in the rented house the Winchesters were currently inhabiting. She came to him like a dream, appearing as a girl of his age with blonde curls and very blue eyes. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “All will be well again soon. This illness will pass.” He smiled at her vaguely, delirious with fever, and murmured something about the stars being bright. She smiled indulgently and watching over him, easing his fever and hiding herself from his older brother Dean, the vessel for Heaven’s precious Michael, rushed to and fro trying to ease the illness. Once Sam was healed, the fever broken in his sleep, she returned to her position at the gates of Hell to deal with the likes of Azazel once more.

She did not approach Samuel, who preferred to be called Sam and would only accept Sammy from his big brother, again until the Christmas of his twelfth year during which he learned what his father really did. That night she visited his dreams, appearing as a twelve year old girl with the same golden pigtails and blue eyes dressed in a warm red winter dress. “Hello Sam,” she greeted him. He stared at her, puzzled by her presence, and she smiled.

“Who are you?” he asked, suddenly recalling what he had read in his father’s journal and backing away from her.

“I am called Carys,” she replied gently, unworried by his unease. 

“Why are you here?”

“To talk,” she told him. “I have watched over you and loved you since the moment of your birth. It pains me to see you so upset by something.”

“How could I not be upset?” he asked her. “My entire life is a lie. What is so wrong with me that my own family feels the need to lie to me about everything?”

“There is nothing wrong with you Samuel Winchester,” she told him sternly. “Your family simply believed they were protecting you. Now listen to me, you are perfect in every way and your family loves you.”

After that visit she kept a close eye on Sam and, in the process, lost track of Azazel. She beamed with pride when Sam was admitted to Stanford on a full ride, and even ensured his safe arrival to the college by picking him up from where the bus stopped and taking him the rest of the way to Stanford. She suspected her recognized her from his dreams, even though she appeared to be a few years older than him, because he studied her oddly throughout the entire drive by he said nothing about it. She watched his progress and grinned when he did a double take the first time he saw Jessica Moore, knowing he wondered if it were here.

Jessica had a pure, clean soul and Carys instantly admired the girl for it. Sam seemed to like Jessica too and spent increasing amounts of time with her. For a while, trusting precious Sam into the capable hands of Jessica, Carys turned her full attentions to the matters of Hell. What she saw worried her. Azazel was amassing an army of demons from the circles, working with Lilith on some plan of which she knew not the ultimate goal. Furthermore, Alastair had allowed Lilith to visit the Cage and speak with Lucifer, something that worried Carys immensely. She attempted to learn what she could and, despite Azazel’s cleverness, discovered much. Tragically, by the time she returned her attention towards Samuel, she was too late. His precious Jessica was burning on the ceiling while all he could do was scream. Carys wept with the enormity of Sam’s loss but she also seethed with righteous fury. For the first time since she was placed the guardian of Hell’s gates, Carys left Hell fully.

During previous times she had visited Sam, she was not simply a projection of her innermost soul or a vision in her dreams. Furthermore, she was not on Earth to visit Sam. Azazel fled before the wake of his wrath and his oldest child, a demon called Gisele who, with the help of another who called himself Brady, had murdered Jessica was destroyed completely. Half of the demon army who had roused themselves at the fallen angel’s command and were waiting at the entrance and exited to Hell protected by Samuel Colt himself abandoned him. The fallen angel was furious and terrified in the wake of Cary’s wrath but he daren’t touch her for fear of further recrimination. She then turned attention away from killing and toward some further goal; the Colt.

She had watched, curious, when Samuel Colt had created the gun all those years ago. It could kill almost anything, excluding a short list of more powerful supernatural entities, and over the centuries had become a myth. John Winchester, Sam’s father, had been seeking the gun for ages when, unbeknownst to him, he already knew the formidable weapon’s owner. Daniel Elkins, a Hunter who specialized in killing vampires, had come across the Colt by chance and kept it locked away in order to protect it. The man already knew John and had taught him much, despite not particularly approving of him, and had, by some chance, discovered lore on Carys by some lucky chance. Therefore it was a fairly simple matter to approach the man and tell him what she desired. They worked out a deal and Carys returned to Hell, her thirst for justice satisfied for the time being.

She watched as John Winchester gained and lost the Colt, dropped a heavy piece of knowledge on Dean’s shoulders, and sold his soul for his oldest son. She frowned at the foolishness. Azazel’s plan progressed by leaps and bounds, which did not please her, but the moment she moved to step in a voice she knew well, the voice of the Lord told her that she was not to interfere until the time was right and the Righteous Man was in Hell. Carys was unpleased by the pain this would cause Sam but she had been told that he would be tested and she must let it be so. She wept at his death and, although part of her rejoiced in his resurrection, it pained her when Dean sold his soul. 

She watched the year that followed, crying silently when he did, and shaking her head at all the desperation within Hell’s future ruler. She watched attempt after attempt fail, and freed Ruby from Hell in an attempt to assist her future king to whom she had already given her loyalty. Ruby did the best she could but in the end Lilith stole Ruby’s vessel and dragged Dean to Hell. Carys waited, silently furious, until Lilith left Sam behind and Dean was buried. Then, only then, did she emerge from Hell. She had waited long enough. Sam had been tested enough. Now he required her help and she would not deny him it. Samuel Winchester would rise to power in Hell, especially now that Azazel had been eliminated, and Carys would be at his side keeping him safe every step of the way.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_“Even a man who is pure of heart, and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright.”-Maleva, The Wolf Man (1941)_

Dean Winchester was dead. That was the heart of Sam’s current depression which he couldn’t seem the shake. His big brother was dead and it was all Sam’s fault. Maybe if he hadn’t turned his back on Jake, if he’d actually watched his back like he was supposed to, he wouldn’t have died that day and Dean wouldn’t have sold his soul. Better yet, maybe if he had never been born at all his brother would have lived a safe, normal life.

Sam had always known there was something different about him. Dad had thrown himself into the hunt full heartedly, searching for revenge for his wife’s death, and Dean had seemed to love the thrill of it. Sam, once he had discovered what was really going on, had hated it almost instantly. It had alienated him from his family, because he didn’t throw himself completely into hunting, and from his classmates, because he was constantly lying. Stanford too had set him apart because he had wished for something different. Then there was the girl. He didn’t remember her name, although he was sure she had told him once, but he could picture her easily. He had only seen her three times in his life, the first when he was incredibly ill at the age of six and the other two when he was much more lucid. She had never looked quite the same yet somehow he was sure she was the same person every time. Normal people didn’t have hallucinations, or if they did they were on schizophrenia medication, and they certainly didn’t have hallucinations that drove them part of the way to college.

A polite rap on the door drew his attention reluctantly towards it. It was either housekeeping, making sure he didn’t need anything for the night, or Bobby who had finally tracked him down. Ever since he’d left Singer Salvage a week ago he’d been avoiding the older man’s calls, not feeling like talking to anyone. Now, resigned, he stood and walked over to the hunk of wood. He had carefully placed the salt line so he could open the door inwards without disturbing it which was what he did now. He was surprised to see a little girl, all of six, standing in the doorway. He recognized her as naturally as his own reflection, remembering her as the only vivid part of a crazy fever dream when he was six. “Hello Sam,” she said with a polite smile. “May I come in?” He hesitated a moment, unsure, and then nodded, deciding he didn’t care if he died or not. She looked sad but entered the room anyway, careful not to disturb the salt line.

“Who are you?” he asked, shutting the door behind her and turning to see her seated delicately on the edge of one of the beds. His bed and not Dean’s. His heart ached at the very thought of that name but he ignored it, fighting to focus on the task at him.

“You don’t remember?” she questioned curiously, tilting her head slightly.

“I remember you,” he admitted. “But not who you are. Or what.”

“I go by Carys, and have since the day of your birth,” she told him. “I was created by God to guard Hell’s gates and to serve the rightful King of Hell.”

“Me,” Sam admitted, stomach twisting with self-loathing as he slumped to the floor with his back against the door. Carys stood instantly and crossed the room to crouch slightly and brush tiny hands across his face.

“You don’t understand Sam,” she said to him. “All those centuries ago, right before Christ himself walked the Earth, the Lord came to me and told me that one day a child would be born. This child would have the purest soul ever born to mankind and it was he who would be the rightful ruler of Hell. He would not be condemned for what he was and he would set Hell to rights, allowing it to become what it was truly meant to be. This was not to be a curse or a punishment Sam. You were born to save us all.” Her eyes were bright and blue and earnest as they gazed at him. Sam struggled to understand everything that he was being told and Carys waited patiently, not rushing him.

“Why are you here now?” he asked at last. “Why not come sooner?”

“I wanted to,” she admitted, expression anguished. “But I was forbidden from acting until your brother was in Hell. I am so very, very sorry for all the pain this caused you and if there was anything I could have done to prevent this I would have.” Sam found himself believing her, even though he had no reason to. It was difficult to distrust someone who appeared so young and innocent. Furthermore, he had known Carys, distantly, for most of his life and she had never done anything to deceive or harm him.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded finally.

“Nothing that you aren’t willing to give,” she replied. “You needed a friend Sam, someone to just be here with you. I am no longer ordered not to interfere so I came.” He nodded, feeling exhausted, and she helped him up with surprising strength. “Rest Sam,” she ordered gently. “I will watch over you.”

Sam dreamed of Hell, even though he had never seen the place before, and his brother screaming. He woke sobbing, tears staining his cheeks. Carys, still as a six year old, cradled his head in her lap and stroked his hair and sang in an oddly haunting language until he calmed. “Dean’s in Hell,” he croaked at last and she nodded.

“They want him to break the first seal,” she told him, quoting as if from a long forgotten textbook. “The Righteous Man shall shed blood in Hell and break the first seal. They want to start the process towards the apocalypse.”

“If I agree to become King of Hell can I stop this?”

“You can,” Carys promised solemnly. “You can stop the apocalypse and free your brother. You can set Hell right again. No one else can do this.”

“What do I need to do?” Sam asked her.

“You already have most the tools you need inside of you,” she informed him. “But you will need more support than just I. Traditionally one would look toward the rulers of each of the Nine Circles of Hell but I do not think that would be the wisest step just yet.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Have you ever heard the story of Snow White?”

“Which version?” Sam asked. “The happy Disney one or the original Grimm brothers version?”

“Either one works,” Carys replied. “But the Grimm brothers is probably best. You see, Jacob and Wilheim Grimm were living in their native Germany when they came across a strange phenomenon; a glass coffin hidden in the middle of the woods. Lying in that coffin was a fair looking girl with dark hair, appearing as if she were asleep. They tried to open the coffin to free her but to no avail. At sunset they returned home, intended to come back the next day, but they never found the coffin again, and for good reason. From this encounter sprung the tale of Snow White. They created a fanciful little story about the coffin and the girl inside, never knowing that the reality was much darker than they could ever guess.”

“What do you mean?” Sam demanded, eyes bright as he turned over what he had been told.

“Thousands of years ago, before Germany was even known as Germany, Knights of Hell roamed the Earth. They were demons, very powerful and very dangerous. They murdered thousands and so, with the assistance of the angels, they were all locked away. The very first of these Knights to be shut away was known as Arakiel and it was she who was trapped in the glass coffin the Grimm brothers found. Had they released her, as they intended, they would have set chaos and destruction free upon the Earth. You, however, are an entirely different matter.”

“Why?”

“You are the true ruler of Hell,” Carys told him. “You can safely set Arakiel free and demand that she swear fealty to you. If she does not, you have the power to cage her once more.”

“Right,” Sam replied, feeling uneasy at the idea that he had to power to set a monstrous demon that had killed thousands free upon the largely unsuspecting world. “So does this mean we’re going to Germany?”

“Eventually,” Carys answered simply. “But before we have anything to do with a Knight of Hell you need to learn how to unlock your God given gifts. Close your eyes and try to relax.” Sam tried to obey and felt as if her were falling, hurtling through the abyss towards the solid ground below. His whole body jolted and his eyes snapped open while he panted for breath, Carys’s tiny hands stroking through his hair. “Just relax,” she soothed gently. “You are safe here.” Sam closed his eyes again, willing himself to calm. This time when he felt himself begin to fall he didn’t fight it, relaxing into the blackness underneath his eyelids. For a moment it felt as if he tumbled toward the inevitable crash landing. Then it was as if he had ripped through something and seen the light. Glimmer strands of gold danced through the blackness underneath his eyelids and his body felt warm and whole.

“Do you feel that?” he heard Carys’s voice asked, muffled as if coming from far away. “It is yours, all of it. Grab hold of it and pull it into yourself.” For a moment he was puzzled. Sam felt as if he had no physical form in this plane of existence. Instead he simply saw and drank it all in. Hesitantly he reached out with his very being, stretched himself out towards the brilliant gold. It rushed toward him, almost eagerly, and when it touched him it felt for all the world like coming home. The gold streamers twined around him like a particularly affectionate big cat. As if hearing that thought, the gold shifted until he was looking at a large golden leopard with pitch black spots. Thin golden spirals still drifted lazily off of its skin, mostly translucent, a spun around it but he was looking at a very large cat.

“Good girl,” he tried hesitantly and the golden leopard purred, satisfied. “Are you with me?” The leopard dipped her head, giving him a silent yes, and he couldn’t help but smile. Then he opened his eyes. 

Carys smiled above him, gleaming with midnight blue and pure silver streamers. Her eyes were ageless silver pools and they took his breath away. Then he blinked and it all pulled away as if giving him space. He opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, and Carys shook her head at him. “Everyone’s power manifests itself differently,” she told him. “What you saw was yours and yours alone. If you wish to tell someone later, when you truly understand the importance of what you saw then you may. Until then keep it to yourself.” Sam nodded and she smiled at him. He sat up and turned to look at her, observing the flawless face, free from both exhaustion and anxiety.

“What’s next?” he questioned curiously.

“You have the power and you know it, deep inside you,” Carys told him. “I cannot teach you how to use it. The Lord gifted you uniquely and gave you the knowledge you need to use them.”

“Wait,” Sam protested instantly. “What do you mean you can’t teach me how to use them? I’ll put everyone in danger.”

“No Sam,” Carys replied with a shake of her head and a fond smile on her six year old face. “Your powers are a part of you and just as you would not hurt an innocent, they will not either.” Sam shook his head, feeling sick and shaken. What if embracing this made him a monster? What if it made him into something they hunted? What if, in the process of saving Dean, he became something his brother could never accept? “Sam.” Carys called his name gently, her voice as soft and sweet as Jess’s had always been. “You can worry about the what ifs forever, and that is well within your right, but worry can paralyze a person.” Sam knew she was right but still he hesitated. Dad had thought Sam was going to turn into a monster. Was this why? 

“Am I-“ he hesitated and Carys waited patiently for him to speak. “Does this make me-?”

Her eyes softened with sudden sweet sadness, as if she understood. “Samuel David Winchester, listen to me,” she implored softly. “You are not, nor have you ever been, a monster. You are a good pure soul and there is none that is your equal. You are precious and beautiful and I will not tolerate anyone telling you differently.” A six year old should not have been able to look as fierce as she did in that moment. He felt tears rise to the surface and was unable to stop a few from falling. He quickly swiped them away and managed a shaky smile for her.

“So, Germany?” She smiled at him, eyes very blue and very bright.

“Germany.”


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_“They intended to bury her, but Snow White looked so alive, and her cheeks were still so red, that they put her in a glass coffin and carried it to the top of a woodland mound. For many years, Snow White lay in the coffin. She still looked as lovely as ever, as though she were not dead, but only sleeping.”-Snow White, The Classic Grimm’s Fairytales, Retold by Louise Betts Egan_

Of all the places in the world, Sam Winchester had never much considered Germany past historical value. Sure it was a place in which there were ancient castles, a country that had been deeply involved in two world wars, and a nation with a rich history but because of the lifestyle that had been forced upon him Sam had never expected to make it out of the United States. After all, it was hard to get a passport when you were supposed to be dead. Now he was standing on German soul hunting after a children’s bedtime story that was the stuff of nightmares. Just one more piece of evidence to go on the list of why his life was definitely not normal.

“How much further?” he asked Carys who was making good time on her short six year old legs. He had decided about an hour ago that it was a good thing they were alone in a German forest, otherwise someone would definitely note the fact that a six year old could walk faster than a six foot plus twenty-four year old.

“Not far now,” she reassured him, smiling at him over her shoulder. “I can feel her.” Sam nodded and didn’t ask what that meant, not sure he wanted to know the answer. She headed east after a moment and Sam followed, eyes widening when he saw sunlight bouncing off something large and glass. 

“Is that-“

“Yes,” Carys replied, shooting him another wide smile. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the coffin, their pace speeding up with the anticipation of the walk being over. The coffin rest on a hilltop. It was made entirely of glass, gleaming and pure. Vines had tried to creep up on it only to fail, slipping off the slick surface. Lying inside was a girl with loose dark curls and china white skin. Her cheeks were flushed pale red and her hands were resting lightly over her chest, a rose underneath the palms. It was white as snow, probably where the name Snow White had come from in the fairytale, and as of yet unbloomed even though it must have rested there just as long as the Knight of Hell had. Spiraling script that looked vaguely like a mixture of Chinese calligraphy and Gallifreyan. 

Sam stepped forward, as if drawn there by some kind of mysterious force, his eyes fixed on the symbols. Without any conscious thought of his own, his mouth moved. A strange buzzing noise echoed in his ears and the glass began to shimmer. They both watched as they glass vanished completely, like a fleeting mirage in the arid heat of a desert afternoon. The girl breathed in, eyelashes fluttering for a moment before revealing bile yellow eyes. 

Sam backed away, catapulted into memories of Azazel and the ongoing nightmare that was Cold Oak. Meanwhile the girl gasped for breath, curls wild are her face as she tried to scramble out of the coffin, limbs weak and uncoordinated. “Damn it,” she growled finally, shaking Sam out of his terrified daze. She sounded nothing like Azazel with his smooth words and confidant assurances, so sure that Sam was going to lead the armies he had amassed. So sure that Sam was going to win. “What are you looking at?” she snapped, all gawky limbs and odd angles, like a middle school kid just hitting her growth spurt. “Why this body?” she moaned. “Why did I have to switch bodies right before they tossed me in here?” Sam snorted, fighting to hold in laughter, and she shot him a sardonic smirk. “What’s your problem?”

“Arakiel, right?” he asked, smirking slightly. It was like he’d found a snotty, gangling teenager instead of a deadly Knight of Hell. Quite frankly, it was hilarious.

“Yeah,” she replied warily, looking him up and down. “Who wants to know?”

Sam actually hesitated because what he was going to say next was almost more ridiculous than a Knight of Hell acting like a klutzy fifteen year old girl. “I’m Sam Winchester,” he said at last. “And I guess I’m supposed to be the King of Hell.” Arakiel’s eyebrows shot towards her hairline and she looked at him as if she had just abruptly seen someone in front of her go crazy. 

Then she turned to Carys and asked, “Is he serious?”

“Yes,” Carys replied. “He is.”

“Oh,” Arakiel replied. “Okay then. How are we going to do this?”

“Umm,” Sam replied intelligently and Arakiel’s eyebrows rose higher. She glanced at Carys who just stared back at her with those blue eyes and then shrugged. Sam flinched when suddenly a gleaming blade was in her hand. She sliced her palm open and stretched it out toward him, eyes suddenly solemn and serious.

“Sam Winchester I swear my life and my sword to you. Do with it what you will.” Carefully Sam brought out his own knife, slicing his palm as well and pressing it against hers.

“Arakiel I accept your fealty and will hold you to your oath,” he replied awkwardly and she smiled at him.

“Good,” she told him. “Let’s get started shall we?”

“Do you even know what we’re doing?” Sam asked her.

“Nope,” Arakiel replied seriously. “So how about filling me in?” Sam glanced at Carys hopelessly and she smiled back at him, shaking her head.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he told her. Arakiel hopped back on to her grave, feet swinging lightly. She looked almost like a child begging for a story. “I died about a year ago,” he began hesitantly. “And my older brother sold his soul to get me back. Lilith dragged him into Hell and I want him back.”

“Okay,” Arakiel told him, feet still swinging. “So how are we going to accomplish this?”

“We plan on gaining allies from the leaders of the Nine Circles,” Carys spoke up. “But to do so Sam is going to require protection of a kind I cannot offer. During the time he must spend in Hell I will need to guard the gates. It will be up to you to protect him.” Arakiel smiled, eyes bright and cold and eager.

“So when do we start?” she drawled lazily.

“Whenever Sam feels ready,” Carys replied with a shrug. He suddenly became aware of the fact that two powerful supernatural creatures were staring directly at him for direction. That was when something inside him stirred and he gained a vague impress of blonde hair and black eyes and angry and hurt and worry.

“Take me back,” he demanded to Carys instantly, without thinking things through.

“What?” the Guardian of Hell seemed started but Arakiel was already leaping off of the coffin to trot over to him.

“Where are we going?” she asked, wrapping a slim hand around his bicep.

“I’ll take you both,” Carys said, seeming to come out of her daze as she reached out a hand toward Sam. Her fingers brushed his arm and suddenly they were standing outside the grubby hotel room Sam had been staying in before the sudden trip to Germany. Ruby jolted back when they appeared, eyes wild.

“Sam?” she gasped out, stunned. “Oh Lucifer, Sam are you okay?”

“Ruby?” he gasped back, breathless and shocked. “I thought you were dead.”

“So did I,” Ruby replied. “But I’m not and I don’t know…“ Suddenly she cut herself off, staring at Carys. “Oh,” she said as if everything had just fallen into place.

“Yes,” Carys replied simply. Ruby tilted her head, as if in thanks, and Sam glanced at Arakiel who shrugged at him. The Knight of Hell looked just as mystified as he felt, which was strangely reassuring.

“Will someone please explain what is going on here?” Sam asked.

“I managed to ensure that Lilith could not entirely eliminate Ruby,” Carys replied. “At the time she was the only help I could manage to send and I did not want her to suffer for that if it was at all avoidable. Lilith, however, does not know that Ruby is still alive. In fact she is likely to overlook your true potential and send a false Ruby after you in an attempt to control you.”

“If she does I’ll kill the fake,” Ruby snarled. “And the Queen bitch.” 

Sam hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say. Then he shrugged and commented, “I have your knife packed away somewhere if you want it.”

“That would be useful,” Ruby replied with a grin. “So what’s the plan? Storm Hell and rip Dean free from their clutches? Or are we going for something a little more subtle?” Sam found himself comforted by Ruby’s typical snark.

“Sam will take the throne that is rightfully his,” Carys answered. “But we will need to move quickly. Arakiel is meant to act as Sam’s protection while he is in the depths of Hell since I cannot but perhaps you would serve as extra protection and an advisor to him.”

“But of course,” Ruby replied with a smirk. “I see no downside to this. If I perform I can gain a good position when Sammy here rules and I’ll have protection from those who hate me. Plus it will annoy Lilith.” Carys nodded, seeming to respect that, and Arakiel grinned.

“Ready Sammy?” the Knight of Hell asked with an eager grin. Sam nodded hesitantly and she grabbed his bicep with one arm, reaching out with the other towards Ruby. Then she beamed at Carys. “Beam us down Scotty.”

“I am fairly certain that…” Carys began and then sighed with resignation. “Oh forget it.” Then she turned to Sam with a sympathetic expression. “I am so sorry for inflicting her on you. Now, as for the travel, you may feel a brief squeeze and a slight increase in pressure. I will place outside of the first circle of Hell. Your job, once there, is to seek out the leaders of each of the Nine Circles and either persuade them to support you or eliminate them a replace them with someone more trustworthy. Do you understand?”

“Either have them swear loyalty to me or kill them,” Sam parroted. “Got it.”

Carys nodded, smiling at him as she gathered her power. “Stay safe Samuel.” Then, before he could protest the use of his full name, she wrapped the power around them and pulled them down into Hell.


End file.
